For You
by Renflower21
Summary: One-shot. Claire/Chane. Claire's been acting strange lately, and Chane can't seem to figure out why.


Chane Laforet's fiancé was up to something. She knew that much; she just could not for the life of her figure out what it was.

It started off inanely enough, with him posing impromptu questions about her various preferences. There seemed to be no definitive theme in the questions, as they addressed a bunch of things: her preferred dress style, gemstone, kind of beverage, book genres, perfume scent, etc. Chane would have thought nothing of it, had the questions arose naturally. But Claire interjected them into completely unrelated conversations, acting as if the abrupt segue was normal. Chane became used to Claire's eccentricity long ago, and actually found it endearing, but this constituted new behavior for him, and it piqued her curiosity.

However, she could have ignored the questions, or chalked it up to his usual whims, if not for the other strange going-ons. For instance, Claire became secretive about his activities. She'd ask him about his day, and he'd dodge the question. Or Chane would mention making plans at a certain time, and he'd maneuver the conversation into a different direction. And because it was Claire, who Chane believed to be incapable of dishonesty, his evasion looked less like lying and more like jumping on a random subject tangent. This was a man who spoke openly about _anything_ that crossed his mind, so she could not fathom what he could possibly want to hide.

And then there was the issue of his apartment. Now, Claire Stanfield was not an inhibited man. After they reached a certain point in their relationship, most of their dates ended in the city apartment he'd rented after quitting his conductor's job. A lot of the time, they only went there to 'talk' or enjoy each other's company in a more private setting, but even that mundane purpose held meaning to both of them. Or so she'd thought, until Claire stopped inviting her over. They kept their frequent dates out in the city, but for the last couple weeks, he'd avoided taking her back to his place. Even when, after great deliberation, she suggested it. He'd looked pained when she brought it up, and had turned her down, without bothering to give an excuse.

Normally, Chane wouldn't let the strange events bother her. After all, the only other person she loved - her father - acted inexplicably and with secrecy for the entirety of her upbringing. That didn't affect her love for him, nor her loyalty. And Claire had an additional fact going for him: Chane trusted him. Whatever his reasons, Chane knew he wasn't acting oddly due to anything that could hurt her. She believed that with every ounce of her being. But that made it worse, because that meant she worried something was hurting _him, _something bad enough that he couldn't tell her about it. Chane didn't appreciate being kept out of the loop when it came to the few people she cherished, and she abhorred knowing they might be troubled and she couldn't do anything about it. So the situation with Claire didn't sit right with her.

Chane tried talking to Nice about it, at one point. She'd written down the basic issues on a note card and handed it to her friend to read over. She did not usually seek advice from others, but given that Nice had been with Jacuzzi for ages, and Chane was only about a year into her only relationship, it seemed like a smart move. However, Nice had only laughed and told Chane not to worry about it. This left Chane baffled. She did not see what was funny about the situation.

After that, Chane decided she'd have to confront Claire about it directly. When he called on her to go to dinner on that Saturday evening, she decided it was the perfect opportunity. They met at a crowded Italian restaurant, and the date went as usual. Whenever they went out, the couple earned a lot of stares and odd looks, because their conversations appeared one-sided. But the truth was, Claire had grown incredibly adept at reading her just from her eyes. She barely had to worry about him misunderstanding anymore. It just proved to her that the man could do anything he put his mind to. Near the end of their dinner, she decided to try and bring up the topic.

_'Claire. Is everything alright with you?'_

Her fiancé tilted his head at the question, looking perplexed. "Yeah, of course everything's alright. I'm out with you, aren't I?" He said, as if that question somehow clarified everything.

Chane looked down at the table, her fingers repeatedly folding and unfolding the napkin next to her plate. She wondered if Claire was blithe even to his own behavior. In that case, she'd never get an answer. Determined, she lifted her gaze back up to the man across from her, eyes steeled so as to show she wouldn't accept platitudes tonight.

_'Why have you not invited me back to your apartment in some time?'_

At the question, Claire offered her a lax smile. He did not show any signs of being perturbed by her calling him out on his suspect actions.

"Oh, that? No, don't go worrying about that, Chane. I just wanted to make sure everything was perfect before bringing you there." He said with a wave of his hand.

Chane rose her eyebrows. As usual, questioning Claire only muddied her understanding further. She was used to this. Usually, with some persistence, she could get him to cut to the heart of the matter.

_'Perfect? I do not understand.'_

"You know, I wanted everything to be just right, is all. Don't get worked up, you'll see what I mean. Because I wanted to bring you there tonight, actually." He said. "Unless you have other plans, of course."

Not sure why Claire would think she had plans so late, Chane shook her head.

_'I do not have anything tonight. I would be happy to go to your place.'_

Claire beamed. "Great. Now relax a little, you've been tense all night. And you look so cute when you're at ease. Not that you're not beautiful tense, of course, that's not what I'm saying -"

Pleased at the so typically-Claire reaction, Chane's lips upturned just the slightest bit. Perhaps she'd been overreacting to the whole affair after all.

"There, see, that's what I mean. Luminescent - that's what I'd call you when you smile. We'll walk over as soon as I get the check, alright?"

Chane nodded, and leaned back as Claire looked around to signal the waiter. She remained unnerved by the turn of events, still trying to divine the meaning of Claire's answers, but all it took was one look at her fiancé to assuage her doubts. After all, whatever was going on, as long as he was a part of her life, she knew everything would turn out okay. Such was the faith that had drawn them together.

It ended up being a twenty minute walk to Claire's apartment complex. It went without incident, save for the steep drop of temperature that must have occurred while they ate dinner. Chane pulled her shawl closer to her body to keep warm. Claire noticed and offered her his jacket, but she declined, maintaining that she'd be fine. She was just happy that it did not snow, as the gray sky above had made her believe would happen. When they arrived at the old building, Claire unlocked the door and gestured for her to come inside. He'd rented out a place there back after their meeting, and though he still travelled extensively, he returned to it as a home base. The building, cheap and located in a shady area, told Chane he only thought of it as a temporary residence. He wouldn't say it, but she knew he only kept a steady place in the city because of her. She could not decide how to feel about that; no one ever went out of their way for her before she'd met him, and subsequently, Jacuzzi's gang. Even after a year, it still made her uncomfortable.

"Now, I know it's far from perfect," Claire said, as he entered the apartment and stepped back for her to follow, "but I figure it's better than nothing, right? And I didn't have much to go off of, I'll admit, so it's the best I could do."

Unsure what her fiancé was talking about, Chane took a few hesitant steps into the room and looked around. When she finally got a look at the apartment, complete understanding of all the bizarre behavior over the last month dawned on her at once.

Around the room, Claire had hung up white strings of multi-colored lights, which flickered in the otherwise dim apartment. A couple artificial wreaths also decorated the wall, as did some ornamental gold bells. In the corner of the cramped living area, he'd erected a tiny pine tree, about half the size of the room. Silver tinsel and ceramic stars drooped from each green branch, meticulously placed, and a figurine of an angel topped it. Beneath, there sat a pile of boxes of varying shapes and sizes, all wrapped in red and green paper. Clearly, Claire had wrapped each by hand, as the paper bunched up and jutted out at sloppy angles. Still, Claire stood grinning with his arms outstretched, unabashed.

_'Christmas. It's Christmas Eve.' _

Chane stared at the decorations, having completely forgotten about the holiday. On some level, she'd known what day it was, but she never connected that fact to herself, let alone to Claire. It explained the mysteries of the last month, as well as why Nice had laughed off her concern.

As attuned to his fiancé as always, Claire walked over to Chane and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"You forgot it was Christmas, didn't you?" He figured out. "Well, I guess that's to be expected. I mean, you didn't ever celebrate it, right?"

Chane nodded, unfazed at this point by Claire's ability to read her.

"Even your father didn't celebrate it with you, did he?"

Another nod. Her father had more important matters to take care of than to commemorate a seemingly pointless holiday. So Christmas passed just like any other day to her, without any reason to take note of its special qualities. Rather than looking at her with pity, as most other people would at the revelation, Claire's eyes brightened.

"Even better. I already wanted to make it special since it's our first Christmas together, but now we get to celebrate it as your first Christmas ever, too. And I get to be there for it." Claire exclaimed, placing his other hand on her opposite shoulder and squeezing.

_'And what of you?'_

It was the only question she thought to ask. The shock of having someone go through all that work for her, for something as arbitrary as spending a holiday with her, still had her shaken.

"Me? Oh, I never cared for Christmas, myself. For obvious reasons." Claire, who'd forsaken religion in favor of solipsism, declared. "And the Gandors were always too busy and too broke to do anything really for the holiday, even when we were little. Sometimes, Keith bought us something, like a book or candy, but that's about it."

_'Why...why did you do this for me? And why did you not tell me?'_

Claire blinked, looking as if he hadn't considered those questions. He tilted his head and slid his hands down her arms, so that he took both her hands into his own.

"Huh, I guess I didn't even think about telling you ahead of time. I thought surprise was supposed to be part of the holiday, right? I didn't want to get any aspect of it wrong. And why did I do this for you? Well, I wanted to have this memory with you, of course! That's what Christmas is supposed to be about, isn't it?" Claire explained.

Chane's heart thudded beneath her ribs, and a brush of pink dusted her cheeks. Whenever she was with Claire, he managed to make her feel like the most important person in the world. How strange that she should find that from a man who constructed the universe around himself. Indeed, Chane's world only became odder the more it expanded. And that was what Claire was trying to accomplish, she realized. Bringing this holiday celebration into her memory was just another small expansion of the world she'd come to know. And in that, once more Claire proved that the change she so resisted could bring her a comfortable happiness, when it came from the hands of someone who loved her.

_'Claire. Thank you.'_

Her fiancé cleared his throat and looked away. The man became abashed at the most unpredictable times.

"Don't mention it. Anything for you, Chane. And I have to admit it's kind of selfish of me. I wanted to have this with you all to myself, after all."

Chane shook her head. She glanced at the decorations again, which were childlike in their proud shoddiness. Then, she looked into the eyes of the man who'd put it together for her, for them.

_'No. It's perfect.'_

Grinning, Claire squeezed her hands before dropping them and walking over to the tree. Chane followed him, as she knew he expected. When he stopped, he gestured at the pile of gifts, of which there were easily more than a dozen.

"I didn't know what to get you, so I just sort of bought a bunch of things you said you liked. The way I figure, at least one of them has to be right." He said.

Chane stared at the bunch of presents. It reminded her of the first time Claire had tried to show his affection for her, in sending her that dress she still kept. While the gesture struck her deeply, she worried she'd somehow given him the wrong impression. At the thought, she shot a look to the man beside her.

_'You did not have to get me all this. You didn't have to get me anything. I know you are serious about me, and I do not want you to think you have to prove it.'_

To her surprise, Claire laughed at her refutation and slung an arm around her shoulders. She felt her body relax by degrees, its automatic reaction to being held by Claire. Just his touch instilled a reflexive sense of security in her, as if nothing in either of their worlds could be harmed.

"Chane, I didn't buy you these gifts because I thought I _had _to. I don't _have_ to do anything in this world, you know that. I did it because I wanted to, because the thought of you looking happy while opening what I gave you drives me crazy. And because I wanted to make up for all the memories we didn't have as children, and to make new ones, too." He reassured her.

Glancing up at Claire, Chane let a bit of her worry cross her face.

_'I did not get anything for you. I am sorry. I should have thought of that.'_

Claire shook his head. "No, that would be completely unnecessary. I'm sorry, I don't think I've been explaining this well. I'm not that good at this. Chane, I don't need any gifts from you, because having you here is the best gift I could ask for. Just having such a charming dame as my fiancé is the best present I could imagine for myself, so nothing could ever top that." He said.

Chane felt her face grow warm. No matter how often Claire laid on the compliments, she never became any more used to them. She wanted to tell him that his presents were superfluous as well, that just his spending the holiday with her was enough to make her happy, but she didn't want to make light of his hard work. Buying the gifts was important to him, so she'd make it important to her as well. And she could not deny that the meaning behind the gesture made her heart flutter with the delight of having someone care so much about her. Someone whom she cared for deeply as well.

She looked up at him, staring into his eyes. Within their depths, she saw staring back a mass of emotion that he'd never release, that he could only alleviate through openly sharing his heart with her. She saw a brutal sincerity that dwelled within no one she'd met before, that no one she'd known before ever had the strength to bear. She saw someone who clung to love, not despite his treacherous past, but because of it. And she saw herself staring back, her gold eyes a mirror that reflected the same pain, and as of recently, the same capacity for love. Had she really once thought his eyes to be empty, to be sources of evil? She'd understood so little about him back then. She gazed at him with full knowledge of his being, with no pretenses as to whom either of them were or how much damage they carried, and she gave him as her gift every ounce of her sincerity.

_'I love you, Claire.'_

Claire smiled at her. "I love you too, Chane."

Then, he pulled her into his arms, hugging her tight against his body. Chane wrapped her arms around him in return and buried her face in the fabric of his coat, breathing in his masculine scent. Her strong body melted as he held her, and she couldn't remember any other place where she'd felt more at home than in his embrace.

"Merry Christmas, Chane."

Chane closed her eyes and let happiness wash over her, and in her mind, she uttered back the phrase she'd yet to share with anyone until that day. Despite its unfamiliarity, it felt completely natural to give to him, as if this was how it should have been all along.

_'Merry Christmas, Claire.'_

A/N: Another Christmas fic. Happy holidays! Thank you for reading.


End file.
